


The duet

by ARMEN15



Category: Bron | Broen | The Bridge
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARMEN15/pseuds/ARMEN15
Summary: Scenes and thoughts from season 3 ep10, around the scene at the train tracks. It can be read as a musical piece, with the "tempo" of the traditional structure of a composition.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tempo





	1. Chapter 1

TENUTO

Henrik had promised to come with me tomorrow.  
I have to ask, the idea of going to the funeral is hard to accept.  
I have to go, for Hans, for me.  
There will be the whole office in attendance, beside Hans' relatives that I already know: sons, ex wife, sister, also the cousin dentist I met when I collected Hans from a tooth surgery.  
Also John greeted me with a see-you-tomorrow sad smile.  
I asked Henrik to come with me, this case was too strained for my nerves. My blood pressure isn’t regular. I never told Hans, I wish I had.  
My doctor wants me to keep it monitored and written on a sheet because three months ago I had an episode of reduced sensitivity in my left hand and wrist. It lasted too long to be ignored and he prescribed me pills in case the pressure is too high, scheduling a consult with a specialist for next month.  
From my medicine texts I suspect a minimal stress induced cerebral hemorrhage, after a two weeks case with very few hours of sleep.  
I'll insist for a CT scan with the specialist.  
This social event is tough for me, Henrik can tell me how I'm supposed to behave. I miss Martin's direct way of helping me with people.  
Henrik is different, I understand when I behave in an odd way just looking at him, without words.  
Hans was a boss, a mentor, a sort of father, for a long time.  
First Martin, now Hans.  
My nights once were quiet and now they’re getting sleepless.  
I’ve used his sleeping pills more than once, without telling him, a little ashamed of being weak, to be considered in need of tranquillizers.  
Tonight my bed is empty, after a series of nights spent with him, at his or my place.  
He’s busy with his boss, I’m busy with my report.  
Tomorrow we’ll meet at the chapel at 9.55.  
I’m tired, I foresee a good sleep, first an Indian curry from my microwave oven, a hot shower and fresh sheets. I haven't sleep here for a few nights, his bed was so soft and warm. Off the old ones, smelling of us, of sex, the stains of our mixed bodily fluids.  
Case ended, tomorrow a new one, a new start. 

__________

GRAVE

Lilian drives her car so the pills are hidden in my glove compartment, I never dare to take them inside my house or at the office.  
If I need them during the day I go to the parking with an excuse.  
Nobody suspects me. At work we’re always busy, concentrated and continuously going in and out and everyone often mind his own business.  
I keep people at distance, my life is private, when I happen to meet somebody outside work I just offer a polite smile and slide away. Once at a club meeting, a chamber concert, I saw in the attendance Hans and Lillian, holding hands, so I swiftly removed the find me tag and pretended to be there just for the music.  
I need something to help me up, this crossing of the bridge to see Alice’s burial place is making me feel awful, my whole body is shaking without control. Lillian looks at me and stays silent, she knows what I feel, I know what she feels.  
We both lost our spouses, in a cruel way.  
She does love Hans, while I’ve been an unfaithful husband, angry at Alice when she disappeared. If she’d come back to me, now, will I be able to tell her the truth about the nights of casual sex, always with strangers, refusing to see them a second time.  
Except Saga.  
The four pylons signal we’re close. I need to see it, need to feel it real, after living with a ghost for five years. Her body, what remains of her, is inaccessible until tomorrow in Lund.  
I want to see the place to get a clue for my girls. This uncertainty about their whereabouts is the worst part.  
Their unknown fate.  
My God it is unbearable, a torture, the most horrible scenario, the one I never dared to imagine.


	2. Chapter 2

ADAGIO

The minister’s voice is low and comforting, she talks about Hans with great respect, her words are tailored on him.   
John explains me our boss and the minister met during a case regarding children abuse, difficult and very sad; since then Hans started attending her church on Sundays. She and Lillian selected words from the Bible and Hans’ niece reads two extracts.  
I know the Bible, read it, never heard it spoken aloud. My parents didn't like churches. As a kid, I was never involved in religion or spiritual aspects of life.   
The young reader speaks of alpha and omega, beginning and end of every life and every human being.   
It’s soothing for me, in a new way.   
Years ago, having to question a witness, I went to his house and discovered the man had suddenly lost his father, the burial scheduled for the following day. The family, Spanish and catholic, was gathered in the sitting room with their priest and asked me to wait a few minutes until they’d finish their rosary. It was a prayer with a simple structure, five decades of the identical invocation to the Virgin Mary, intercalated by events of the life of Jesus and other prayers.   
I found it was a sort of mantra, the sound of the voices raising and falling with the rhythm of the verses had a calming effect also on me.   
Maybe if I'd hear it now it'll help me forget Henrik is not here.   
But we're in a Swedish church, modern and cold, not in one of the baroque catholic chapels from the luxuriously illustrated art books, full of marbles, statues and paintings.   
What's the difference for God in the appearance of a church? If He is everywhere, He's in every building dedicated to His name. Is God one and the same after all?   
I distract myself with theology, I’ve already turned to the entrance door four times since the beginning of the funeral, John asks me what’s wrong.   
All’s wrong.  
Hans in the coffin and I'm alone.  
I’m used to be alone, why this time I miss someone? A man I know for less than two weeks? This weakness don't belong to me. Yes, I had to face the case, Hans’ abduction, my mother and a new boss, very demanding. But Henrik was with me, he supported me with Linn, he said we're a team.   
We are. We.  
There are logical assumptions to explain his delay.   
Accident, flat tyre, car battery, silent alarm clock, stomach bug.   
It can’t be work, he wanted from Lillian a few days off, so why?   
Why?

ANDANTE 

I see my body lying on the living room floor, I’m up above somewhere. I observe.  
There is emptiness around me, my mind is confused, concentrated on the black clothed figure, the motionless man that is me.   
I wonder if this is dying, if I‘m going to see soon Alice and my girls.   
Did they feel the same numbness when it happened, when everything went black? Was it fast or terribly painful and slow? Who died first? I pray Alice was the first, not to see the treasures she gave birth to dying before her.   
The night gives way to the day, time passes, the body gets colder, the breathing slower.   
I can only wait, unconscious and awake at the same time.   
Nobody is looking for me.  
I say goodbye to my house, my work, the few people I still call friends.   
Sorry, Mom, sorry, Dad, it’s all my fault, you are good parents, not like me.  
Forgive me, say a prayer for me. I know how you’ll feel, the same grief I had in me for six years, the pain to loose your own child. You'll loose one, I lost both.  
Sorry, Saga, this time I cannot hold on any longer.   
This time is for real, not the night long ago, on the first anniversary of the disappearance, when I drank too much, went to the sea and stripped off my clothes, took some sleeping pills and lied on the shore, waiting for the high tide to take me away. I woke when the water reached my nose and I couldn’t breath, I got only a bad cold for the following week.   
I’m sorry, Saga, when you’ll discover my body – and I'm sure you'll be the one - don’t get angry at me, don't be disappointed with me. We could have a future together, something beautiful, that both deserved. No. It had to be this. It had to happen. I promised to be with you at the funeral, but someone else called me for the very last time.

RAPIDO 

The ambulance doctor tells me it is a serious situation. Henrik could have passed away if I hadn't arrived. He's now on the stretcher, his face pale in contrast with his dark hair and shirt.   
The paramedic asks me to follow the ambulance or jump on it. Henrik has no next of kin, on his card the name Alice Sabroe is silly and unrealistic, I have to explain the reason.  
Why he kept her name there? Still his desperate hope to keep things unchanged so they could return?   
I called the ambulance so for them I’m the next of kin now.  
I'm confused, what’s in a definition? Why it is important now, when he need only to be rushed to the ER?   
I want my car but I also want to be with him.   
I pick up the plastic bag full of pills from the floor, it's important for the doctors to identify the substance to clean him off faster.   
I tell them to wait a moment, rummaging in the lowest drawer of the kitchen, grabbing a paper bag to fill with a pair of boxers and a shirt from his closet, the one he wear is stained and smells of vomit. To hell the next of kin thing, to hell how well I know this house, I have his keys in my hand, the metal ring around my little finger since I entered here and extracted the bunch from the lock.  
He'll need fresh clothes, he'll be well soon.   
I keep the paper bag close to my chest as a protection inside the ambulance, the paramedic tries small talk, asks if Henrik is husband or partner. I shake my head.   
Friend?   
I'm at loss for words.   
Who's him? Do I really know him? Did he tell me the truth? Lillian explained about the skeleton found, the wife, buried for years, no daughters. Was it grief? Shock? Was it a suicide attempt?   
I'm not convinced. The sleeping pills he takes every night and these other pills are suspicious.  
I sit in the ER waiting room, it will be a long wait, the desk nurse predicts. I imagine the procedure.   
Monitoring of heart and blood pressure, vital stats, oxygen mask, induction of vomit, blood samples, fluids. And he is conscious, he feels everything, I refuse to imagine him sliding away.   
I hate hospitals, too many memories of my sister. The room is crowded, people talks, smell of sweat and smoke, phones ring, a young boy with an open cut in his arm cries, waiting to be admitted.   
The doctor of the ER arrives in the afternoon, Henrik is better and I can see him later. I read the blood results. It's not a overdose, a suicide, I'm sure it's deeper, lasting for a long time.   
It's drug addiction.   
My expert in Lund hears my theory and confirms it. I can 't see Henrik now.  
A taxi will take me to my Porshe. I need time to think. 

STRINGENDO 

Saga goes away without a word. The way she looks at me is enough..  
Delusion, betrayal, her face impenetrable but I can read her eyes.  
I was wrong, I know. I've lost my two women in just one day.  
For the doctor, my liver belonged to an old man with decades of abuses.  
He was serious, change lifestyle or die in a short time, there were no other options.  
He was right, my sleeping pills had to be stronger during the years, I need more stimulants than before.  
When I woke up early in the morning it was pain all over, my mind struggling to grab where I was, my mouth was dry and smelled of vomit, I could feel each teeth rasping against my swollen tongue.  
Lillian called me, she briefly told me we have to talk. She is unaware of the extent of my abuse, the report was not on her desk yet.   
She'll fire me.  
She doesn't understand work was my only reason to live. For the periodic check ups I always asked my old friend Lars, now a doctor, to get a cover up certificate that'd justify the use of sleeping pills.  
My trauma a reason still lasting.   
The morning nurse arrived at 6 a.m. with medicines and took another blood sample. I gulped her pills obediently and felt a little better. They kept me all night on fluids to wash away the substances, so the nurse without asking permission lifted up my gown and took the catheter off. It was embarrassing, she was very young, they put it in position while I was unconscious.  
What do they did to me? Saga will know, she’ll explain me all the details.  
I long to see her. my eyes fix the door, waiting for her.   
My mind rewinds the events of the last few days and it focuses on her.   
She comes and simply states my addiction. How can I hide from her something? She’s the smartest detective in noticing those things.   
I've let her down, like she said everyone would.  
Somehow this hurts me more than the pain in my body.   
Fight or surrender? If my girls? Maybe is not the end, Saga can…  
Come on, man, get a grip, reset yourself. Alice's gone, Saga is alive, she deserves an explanation, she'll accept it or not, but you have to try. There's always hope, and hope is last to die. Get up and go to her. Now!

MOSSO

First thing at work I'll speak with Linn to report Henrik's abuse while he was working on a Swedish case. The proper chain of command must be followed. The Danish police will receive a report straight from the hospital.   
Lillian calls me, distressed for Hans and now also for Henrik. Her voice is broken , she is crying,  
Then she asks me how I feel, if I'm worried for Henrik.  
I'm fine. What's in my mind is just for me, I won't tell her. Henrik failed me, I told him everyone does the same, why could he be the exception? Is he so sure of himself, so presumptuous to be different from the others? Me and Martin were friends for a very long time, was Henrik assuming sex would prevent me from reporting?   
I can go to Linn now. Get over with it. But I asked him two evenings ago at dinner if I could help him…. He needs help. Is reporting him the best way to do so?   
I failed with my sister, then no one for me was worth. Martin had guilt written over his face. He'd be found, with or without my involvement. Henrik is an addict, not a killer. It's different, he didn't hurt people. He could hurt himself only and he wasn't honest with me.  
He asked my help for the cold case after we became intimate. I thought at first he was a one night stand only, it soon changed in a deeper thing. I went to him, without Hans I turned to him and he told me one of his secrets. Was the dependence too painful? Maybe he hoped I'd discovered it to set him free? Mu solved case rating is one of the best in Sweden.   
I've fond Hans killer, my task completed. Hans wanted me to solve the case, I wish him to be there to hear words of praise from him that I secretly desire. The words my own father never spoke.  
Hans trusted me, my abilities, I never failed him and he was proud of me.  
Once he told me he'd like all his detectives were brave like me, maybe just a little less difficult to handle. I looked at him with a strange gaze, bowing my head a little and he simply smiled.   
I think I'm easy to manage at work, when things are efficient and neat.   
Before I decide to speak about Henrik or not, Linn tells me Emil is dead. 

 

PRESTO

I drive and I‘m free. For the first time in years, the fog I am living into is fading away.  
I’m free from Alice’s ghost, the one that never let me get close to another woman, until…  
Until I grabbed the chance to be with her, to know her better.  
Oh I’ve calculated a roll in the hay with Saga, scheduled it like it was a procedural thing, Martin told me she was wild and careless in that compartment, so no problem in a fast screw, a strong performance from me to satisfy her and then me asking her help.   
How wrong I was! Since the first day of work together I felt the urge to protect Saga, her innocence was so endearing, so sweet. I was charmed by her since the beginning.  
I understood there was no need to pretend, to play the charming guy role, like with the women of the club; with her I can be myself, the real me, such a relief, a blessing I never imagined to deserve.  
A gift that soon becomes a balm for my heart, I've find another one whose scars and wounds are similar to mine.   
Our first night was different from the single nights with all those endless bodies I played with. Because it was the first, then came the second, when I knocked at her door, already trapped by her. Then she rang at mine and the following nights were us simply sharing my room, sleeping, nothing else, into a bed no longer cold, because the warmth of a body next to mine, the soft sounds of her breathing during sleep were little miracles for me.   
And now Alice is gone for real and I have the best chance of my life after I my marriage. I cannot destroy it, I can have all of Saga and more, so much more.   
No speed limits, a fire consumes me.   
For now no effects of being without pills, but what the doctors prescribed me is only a temporary relief.  
I can be faster than lightning in my drive but not enough to find her. When John tells me about Emil and Linn avoid my eyes I get high again.  
No drugs, my face is a series of nervous tics, my eyes blink like in full daylight.   
The heart in my ribcage pumps for a race  
I cannot imagine to be able to lie down and rest again.   
Saga sure knows what drives me now, what hormones rule me.  
The detective in me understand she is escaping from everything, the lover pushes me to be fast in saving her and us.   
Where to search? I’ve found her at Hans’ deathbed.   
Full immersion in her logic: not at work, not at home, not answering calls.   
I need her. if I’m alive is because of her and for her. I’m ready to admit it now, shouting it loud. I was already in need and restrained myself, until Alice ghost disappeared.   
The realization our bond was deeper than the cold case made my wife dissolve.   
A crossing, right city centre, left central station.   
My hands turn left the wheel.   
I need her.  
Three words impressed in my brain, burning on my forehead like a mark made by fire.   
Fever. Rage. Shame. Desire. Addiction.  
The pills try to lure me in the black trap again, speaking of insecurity, of failures.  
Sure there is a pill under the passenger carpet or between the car manuals, slipped from my fingers.   
I gave up my work before realising Saga hasn’t reported me in Denmark.   
It don’t mind, I got my case, I need to find my girls.   
Station gates, signal of restricted area, I cross them, still a policeman in a car registered for service. All lights on, to the track, to see in the darkness  
Here she is.

.   
PRECIPITANDO 

His words are louder than the noises of the train station. We're close to the buildings, there are speakers, train engines, car traffic on the viaduct..   
This is the end.   
I've become my own executioner.   
First time I tried with Emil, Henrik stopped me. Second time I hit the score, by chance or purpose Emil got the paper clip.  
Strength left me.   
I'm a young woman living in a university residence, it's a Friday evening, I'm studying, alone, the other students are out, busy with their social life.   
I’ve got no friends.   
Pernille was a friend until she found me in bed with her boyfriend; she got angry at me and told the others I was after every man.   
I didn't force him to have sex, if he did it with me he wasn’t in love with her.  
I was used to be alone. Jennifer was in a foster house and I visited her twice a week.   
I heard my name called from downstairs and answered.  
There was our house manager at the foot of the stairs with two agents in uniform.   
A chill in my body.   
I remember the way I stiffened while descending, how my body became heavier with every step. I took note of all the details of their uniform, the stain over left pocket of the man and the mended shoulder of the woman.   
It's her who asks me my identity and prompts me to sit down.   
I know before they tell me, I don't know how, Jennifer is dead.  
Henrik is on the other side of the tracks and I cannot let him come to me. My gun stops him, I'm not going to shot at him, more probably at me. He continues speaking, he wants my attention and I don't want to be distracted by my purpose. Next train, just waiting till next train.  
He shouts, body tensed, face a mask of fear. Am I so distressed to make he feel so bad? Is he so in need of me to be standing there in the cold, offering me reasons to live?  
The sound of a train.  
Nobody needs me, I don't need anyone.   
I'm sure. Sure. Quite sure. A tiny doubt. What if...  
If I jump to him and not under the train? Can he be my salvation, the one who read inside me and see I'm worthy?   
The train is coming.   
Fast decision, a few seconds, will it be easy to surrender, or will it be easier to need and be needed? To trust this man who is begging me to live? A moment of clarity, in all my life nobody showed me such a desperate need before. Is he the one I searched for years after Jennifer?   
The train gets speed, strength, power.   
His voice gets louder to cover the other sounds, he shouts, he uses my own language to get me better, his last effort......


	3. Chapter 3

ADAGISSIMO 

God, make this moment lasts, nothing else I ask you, listen to my prayer, forgive me, let her live with me.  
Just having Saga here, safe in my arms. It's the first time I touch her in a place different from a bed. She lets me, we are so close.  
This hug is giving me life. Oxygen. Hope.  
I don't care the discomfort, the setting, the chilly night.   
We're one, our hearts beat in unison. .  
My senses are alerted, in a way different from the stimulants.   
Her breaths follow my rhythm, another train passes and she doesn't move a muscle. I barely notice the air displacement, nor the sound, so tense I am.  
The scent of her hair is the almond shampoo Alice used centuries ago, she found it in my bathroom. She can use everything, I don’t care, it‘s important she stays. On her the scent is different than on Alice, or so are my memories.   
Her cries become a child’s lament when the shock slowly subsides.  
She's fragile and strong at the same time, a steel bar I can mould with my bare hands.  
Ambivalence. Confusion., Uncertainty.  
Her defensive walls crumble down fast and I'm here. I'm glad. I’m the one. I want to be the one who is holding her.  
She melts in my arms in a way I never hoped for, trusting me. I've let her down and she let herself down.  
She's warm, sobbing, shocked but alive.   
I love this woman, I'll never tell her, she's not ready to accept it and still a part of me is full of insecurities and doubts. Is it too fast, too soon? Is it too easy after my years of abstinence from love? Am I wrong? Someday I’ll express what I feel. My eyes and my arms show her my need. . 

 

ADAGISSIMO  
The concrete under my knees is cold and the chest around my back is warm..  
My mind has a temporary closure.   
For how long, it is better it remains unknown. He'll tell me what I don't remember before or after the train, his presence behind me is all my world now.  
The instinct to stiffen and push him away is strong - it's an abitude for me to refuse contact - but it fights with the sensation of peace with his face in the crook of my neck, with his mouth whispering words whose meaning I don't understand and I do need at the same time.   
I grab only small bits of what he says, I'm sure he reassures me, comforts me, then his lips are on my hair, near my left ear, on my neck, I should send him away because of the no kissing rule, but kisses far from mouth aren't proper kisses. And they are good, he speaks having his mouth on my skin and his words vibrates through me.   
This hug is different from Hans'.  
Henrik leans all into me, search for every part of me he can reach under the winter coat and the layered cardigans I wear.   
I lean into him, my weight all on his bended tights, he'll have muscle cramps and sore knees by now, will need stretching movements while getting up.   
We must leave, in a while.  
My head rests on his shoulder, I keep my eyes closed, a new warmth envelops me.   
After a suicide attempt I saw in a suspect tremors, inability to speak, no sphincters control.   
Nothing like that for me. That man was alone in a deserted yard, surrounded by police cars, I'm held tight and comforted, it's good.  
I evaluate the reasons behind my attempt: I planned to do like Jennifer, same place, same way, they'll say deviant genes drove us both.  
I've been lucky.   
Lucky?  
Do I really believe that? With the swords of incrimination and trial dangling over me? Without my work and worse without my freedom?  
The way my body still search for his closeness, yes.   
And he don't change his grasp while I try to straighten my back, telling me he won't let me go.   
Don't be ridiculous, I reply, we can't stay here all night. Stay together, he whispers.

 

CALANDO

She parked the Porsche under the windows of the police office at the station, beside a service car. I move mine there before we leave, a note on the windscreen.  
She could be suicidal, sure she’ll never forget her 911.  
Who will receive it, if…  
I cannot ask. Hans is dead, Martin is away, I fear to hear my name and it could be too much, another object for my collection, one too big to store in my house.  
I don’t need her car, I’m not a speed guy.   
We traded my old Golf with the Peugeot when Astrid was born, Alice wanted a bigger car for all kid’s stuff.   
I kept the car, like the rest, never cleaned the back seats from the plastic toys the girls liked to play with.   
A single man with a family car.  
I'd never fill it again with a family, was my constant thought   
Until a few days ago a tiny hope was born, too fragile to grow. A hope regarding Saga, a hope to conceal because I couldn’t leave the mother of my daughters.  
If they were back, I’d be forced to stay with them, no matter what caused the disappearance. My duty is to be with them.   
Now I’m surely a widow, the same man and a different one. How easily are we defined by words, that completely change our identity?   
Now I’m free to think about Saga.   
Since our fist time in bed I feel for Saga something that later prompted me to ask her if she never imagined having a kid of her own.   
The hidden purpose, the one I cannot admit, was if that kid could be ours, an idea apparently absurd now that I’m unemployed and she risks a trial.   
It’s time to go back to reality, where does she want to go tonight? 

 

VIVACE 

To reduce aftershock tiredness an adequate time to rest is the best choice. A good sleep, some food, low lights and silence.   
He asks where we’re heading, if I do feel up to drive. We could stop at the hospital just in case I want to be assessed.   
I don’t answer, go straight for the bridge, to his home for tonight, wanting him to cook for me and eat with me and lie with me in his huge bed.   
I'm grateful he stops talking, accepting what I'm doing.  
A suicide attempt followed by a drive respectful of all traffic rules should prove him I'm back in control.  
When he understands where we're going he points out my place is nearer if I’m tired.   
I'm more awake than after a dozen of black coffee mugs.   
My flat is off limits tonight, it is full of me and I don't want to talk with myself. I have my ghosts in there tonight. He's better at coping with his. I park the car the usual spot and look at him.   
His pupils tell me he's still in shock.   
We enter his house, low lights, my face is partially hidden, I m not exactly proud of my weakness. The half darkness give a surreal glow to our bodies moving in the kitchen.   
Having not eaten for more than 24 hours, I sit on a high chair, asking for food.   
He's happy to have me hungry, so he can busy himself in cooking. He cling to the signs of normality.   
Henrik is not good at being idle, action is his way to cope with loneliness.   
The aroma of lamb chops and fried potatoes fills the room.   
I eat and he looks at me, saying his stomach is too clenched, the idea of food is unpleasant.   
You should try, I insist, he just grabs slices of bread and some cheese from the fridge.   
His gaze lingers on me for a long time, then a word only: why?  
Impossible to give a reason now, too complicated and too early for me to process the last hours.   
He doesn't force me, simply cleans the dishes, takes a prescribed pill and drinks half a bottle of water, to purify his body.   
It will be hard. Is he aware of the difficulties he's going to face during next days?  
The forensic team from Lund promises me info about his drugs for tomorrow, meanwhile the NA site is an interesting reading.   
He locks the door for the night, then look at me, before taking the keys off.   
There's no need, I'm not going to snake out in the middle of the night to return there.   
He nods at my words and the keys are back into the lock.   
Finding info to help him is helping me too, I have a purpose and avoid thinking about myself.   
The bedroom door stays open, from my chair I see him disrobing and going to bed. He turns and sobs, falling asleep long after midnight.  
I stay up until my eyelids close, nothing to do tomorrow, nowhere to go. 

VIVO

All the water I have to drink to clean me puts a pressure on my bladder and I go to the bathroom twice before morning.   
My stomach is cramping, for the absence of drugs or of food? Will some dark chocolate be good? I read chocolate produces the hormone of happiness. Me and Saga should eat a ton , to be slightly happy. We'll sure have a congestion long before happiness.  
My Wiki sure knows what’s better for me to eat now and which hormone is in each food, but she sleeps and I let her rest. Half a tablet of chocolate won't kill me. It's ironic, did I want to kill myself or I simply lost control of what I was doing?   
Did she want to kill herself or was she desperate to get my attention?   
The moon light filters from the windows, I close the curtains, it's winter, long nights, we can stay in bed how much we want..  
Saga hears me and turns, her eyes are open.   
She is used to look at me while I'm asleep; her breathing changes from sleeping to awake, she doesn't realize it, but I've learned so many things about her mannerisms. No more a mistery for me. She may thinks I sleep but near dawn the effect of the sleeping pills ends.  
Her eyes are huge, pliant, full of something she is afraid to express in words.   
I approach the bed, offering my hand.   
After the hug, does she dare to touch me of her own will?  
No requests, no pressures, just an offer I make.  
Two weeks are long and short at the same time. My courtships were fast, Julia and Alice in my twenties, both leading to long relationships and eventually to a marriage.  
Her hands moves slowly toward mine, my breath is suspended; the hand stops a little, retreats, than go forward again, closing around my fingers and pulling me to the bed. A look and it is desire. .  
It is fast, she throw back the covers while I get naked; her legs are already in position, barely the time to get fully hard and we're joined, she asks me to go faster, deeper.   
I close my eyes for the effort.  
What is this, a thank-you-sex for saving her life? A sign of forgiveness for my abuse?   
I grab her shoulder, not a caress, more a gesture of ownership.   
Like I ever could own an independent spirit like Saga.  
My fears return in full force, that she could have gone so easily, killing herself, leaving me alone another time.   
I cannot let it happen, I need to feel her real under me, under my fingers. Desperate thrusts like there's no tomorrow, but we do have tomorrows, we’ll have lights and longer days and warm springs and we’ll live, not simply survive.   
She don't complain, welcoming all of me, the same desperation connects us more than our bodies are.   
She comes, I follow and suddenly she states I’m inside her without the condom. I’ve forgotten it in the rush to melt together. Forgotten first time since I started clubbing.  
I pull myself out fast, I'm clean, always used it before and I don’t mean to risk a pregnancy.   
She isn't angry or worried, her copper coil keep us safe, I should have imagined Saga was protected; for her, we can forget condoms from now on.   
So are we an item, where the issue of birth control is resolved and partners are faithful to each other? Is this too much for her? Not for me, the club is past, with her I've found peace, that search is complete. 

 

ACCOMPAGNATO

One day, two days, a week, a month and a routine takes form.   
During workdays we stay in Malmo.  
He's awake long before me, goes out for a walk, it's still cold so he wears multiple lawyers, a scarf and a beret, his body temperature without the pills is too unstable.  
Then he cooks breakfast for us: I'm hungry, his appetite swings a lot. I sit at the computer and read while he cleans the apartment. Being busy help him to forget the abstinence symptoms.  
Later in the morning me and Linn do an assessment of the latest cases, I'm on back office assignment, until my situation is evaluated by internal investigation. Linn values my perspective on the investigations.  
He stays at my place and works on his family disappearance until I join him again mid afternoon.  
I see it is hard for him when he paces the room, clenching his fists and sweating a lot.  
He attends a support group, two evenings a week, the other evenings he often goes out after dinner, running, walking, he likes the winter nights. He wants exhaustion to sleep without ghosts.  
I have time to read alone in my apartment. And to wait for him. He’s always back after an hour, this precision suits me well.  
He's careful in holding my space untouched, keeping his things in a trolley near the door.   
It's a fragile equilibrium we've reached.   
We’re licking our wounds, one helps the other to soothe the hidden scars we have in our bodies, that we wear like a protection. Getting to know them, to recognize each and to heal, slowly.   
When we stay at his place for the weekends, I breath better, my anguish subsides, his space, his things calm me.  
And often, in the night, it's skin to skin and nothing else. We have reached a point of mutual understanding, it's brain and brain and I can read him without words


End file.
